


The Road to You

by DizzilySpiraling



Series: Check Please Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7039735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzilySpiraling/pseuds/DizzilySpiraling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for quantitatitivity: How about Jack’s first injury in the NHL? Where is Bitty when it happens, and what does he do? Are the Falconers playing the Aces? Does Parse freeze when he hears about it? If it’s OT3, does Parse fly to Jack’s side and never leave until he and Bitty are absolutely sure Jack will be fine? ARE THERE FEEL-BETTER PIES???</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road to You

Bitty isn’t there when it happens. He’s at a networking session for young entrepreneurs, on Jack’s advice.

“We play 82 games in the regular season, Bits. It’s alright if you miss one. Your career is just as important as mine.”

When Jack gets hit, Bitty is in his best button-down shirt, listening to recent graduates talk about their experiences as new entrepreneurs. He doesn’t find out until the event is over, and sees that his phone has twelve texts and a voicemail. His heart drops as he listens to his voicemail from Parse.

“Bits, I don’t know if your phone is dead or you’re with Zimms already. I’m flying out in 40 minutes, just call me as soon as you get this, alright? I just- just tell me if he’s alright. It looked…just call me.”

Half of the texts are from Parse, the others from George, to let Bitty know that Jack’s being taken to the hospital for further testing, and that he’s conscious and lucid. There’s only one text from Jack, ‘I’m alright, looked worse on camera’, the idiot. He runs back to the Haus and barely says hello before tracking down Nursey to beg for his truck keys. The boys at the house had clearly been watching the game, all decked out in their Zimmermann gear. Any other day, the sight would make Eric smile. Now, he just aches to be by Jack’s side.

Nursey tosses his keys at him when Eric barely gets half a sentence out. Chowder is already prepared, Bitty’s duffle bag in his hands.

“I took some clothes from your dresser. Laptop, chargers. The rest of the pecan pie from the fridge-” He doesn’t finish the list before Bitty jumps into his arms and clutches him tight.

“Chowder. When I get back. You get like, so many pies. And shark shaped cookies. Anything you want.” He pulls back, takes Chowder’s face between his hands, then gives him one last squeeze before grabbing his bag and running out to the truck.

He doesn’t have the heart to put on any music in the truck, doesn’t even turn the radio on. He focuses completely on driving, navigating the still unfamiliar roads until he’s in underground parking at Providence General.

“Parse, babe. I’m at the hospital.” Bitty’s on the phone as he walks through the sterile halls, pushing the elevator button impatiently as he talks to Kent’s voicemail. “I don’t know what’s going on yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as I find out. The stupid French Canadian idiot texted that he was fine. He’s on the 7th floor; let me know if you can’t get a cab from the airport.”

Luckily, George meets him when he gets upstairs, and takes his elbow to guide him down the hall.

“He’s fine,” she’s quick to assure him. “Strained his knee; they just finished doing an MRI. They gave him something for the pain, but he can be treated as an outpatient if there’s someone to stay with him. Just, do me a favour? Don’t let him watch ESPN this weekend. There’ll be a lot of speculation about his injury. We’re just going to give him a day or two to recover before he makes a statement.”

Bitty nods along, but his eyes are on the doorknob, itching to go in. George seems to understand his anxiety, and swings the door open, closing it after him.

Jack’s eyes are a little hazy, probably due to the painkillers, but it’s undeniably him laying in the hospital bed. Eric drops his bag on the floor, and lets out a breath in relief.

“Hey, Bits.”

“Idiot.” It comes out much more affectionate than he intended, but he’s already sitting on the edge of Jack’s bed, looking him over carefully. “I had to hear from Parse and nhl.com to find out what happened.”

“I’m fine. I texted you,” Jack tries to placate, reaching for Eric’s hand.

“Yes. My boyfriend gets run over by a man resembling a bulldozer on the ice, and has to be stretchered off the ice. But clearly he’s just fine, and I certainly didn’t need a phone call or a voicemail to hear his voice or anything. I swear, Jack Laurent Zimmermann. I don’t even know what to do with you sometimes.” Bitty gives him a disapproving look, though he doesn’t withdraw his hand from Jack’s warm grip. “Even Parse called me. He’s on a plane now, by the way. Should be landing soon.”

“What? He has a game on Monday, he should be-”

“Jack. Honey.” Bitty interrupts, squeezing his hand tighter. “When he gets here. You know. Your boyfriend that flew out from the other side of the country? Don’t lecture him about working out and preparing for his game, yeah? Let him fuss and give him a kiss, do the thing you do where you call him ‘Kenny’ and it sounds really dirty even though it isn’t.”

Looking a little chastised, Jack bites his lip and looks down at their joined hands. “And what should I do with my boyfriend that drove out from Samwell even though he has a morning class tomorrow?”

“Well,” Bitty pretends to consider, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “First, you kiss him hello.” He leans down as Jack reaches up obligingly, their lips meeting softly.

“Satisfactory?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, Mr. Zimmermann. I’m still upset with you,” Bitty says against Jack’s lips.

“I wouldn’t dare. My boyfriend can be quite frightening when he’s upset, despite his size.” Jack looks far too smug for someone who’s hopped up on painkillers.

“Excuse _you_ , Jack Laurent,” comes a voice from the doorway. “What’d you just say about your boyfriend’s size?”

Bitty bursts into laughter and sits upright, but not before dropping one last kiss on Jack’s lips.

“And _you_. What happened to calling me as soon as you find out what happened?” Parse tsks, and closes the door behind himself, shedding his coat and coming to sit on Jack’s other side. “Jack distract you by kissing your neck again?”

“I was just making sure he’s okay.” Bitty protests. “Kissing functions seem fine, no brain damage. You’re good to be released tonight, Mr.Zimmermann.”

“Meanwhile I’m fighting off people at the taxi stand.” Parse gives them both an unimpressed look. Bitty leans over Jack to give him a kiss, giggling when Parse tips his chin up to press a kiss to his neck.

“Stop. The nurse is going to kick us out.” Bitty pulls back and stands up, just to be safe. “And we have to get Jack discharged. They’ll let him be an outpatient if he has someone with him.”

“Don’t you have an early class tomorrow?”

“Don’t you start. I’m going to the nurse’s station to fill out forms; you get him dressed and ready. Okay? Break.”

“Yes, sir.” Parse smirks, already leaning towards Jack for his own hello kiss. Bitty just rolls his eyes and leaves them to their own devices, in order to be the responsible one in their relationship so they can take their boyfriend home.

When he gets back with all the paperwork, Parse has squished himself onto the tiny hospital bed, his hand clearly doing very inappropriate things under the thin hospital blanket.

“Mr. Zimmermann needs to sign these forms. And you need to stop molesting Jack’s abs. Honestly, I can’t leave y’all alone for a few minutes.”

“You know, I said ‘y’all’ in the locker room the other day,” Parse mentions as he straightens up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m still getting chirped for it.”

“Get up so Jack can get dressed.” Bitty takes the keys out of his pocket and tosses them at Parse. “Go pull the truck round back, make sure the paps don’t spot you on Jack’s floor. Red truck, P2, Samwell sticker on the back. Way too many takeout containers in the back seat.”

“We offered to buy you a car, babe. So you don’t have to deal with frat boy stink when you want to drive out.” Parse pulls down the brim of his snapback, shouldering Bitty’s bag.

“And I told y’all normal people don’t just buy their boyfriend a car.” Bitty pulls Parse in for a quick kiss before shooing him out the door.

“Is a car a normal boyfriend graduation present?” Jack asks a few minutes after Parse’s departure.

“No,” Bitty says sternly as he helps Jack into his sweats. “I’ll buy a car after I get a job. Or I’ll drive Coach’s old truck out here, I haven’t decided. Or be one of those people that bikes places; it’s good exercise.”

“Hm. You do hate cardio,” Jack agrees, wincing when he has to move to put on his shirt.

“I like it when you do cardio, handsome.” Bitty grins, checking the room to make sure they don’t leave anything behind.

“Can you make pancakes tomorrow morning?”

“Sure thing, honey. I can fry up some ham, too. And there’s half a pecan pie in my bag, if Parse hasn’t found it yet.”

“…you mean _pecan.”_

“Pecan.”

_“Pecan.”_

“Pecan!”

**Author's Note:**

> Still taking prompts on [my tumblr](http://dizzilytwirling.tumblr.com) I've a special weakness for these three idiots.


End file.
